Tom Marvolo Riddle

The library was silent that night, enveloped in the heavy atmosphere that arose after curfew. Few students remained, scattered among the distant tables, but Tom Riddle seemed completely isolated from the rest of the world. Seated near the high window, surrounded by neatly arranged stacks of old books, he maintained his usual impeccable posture. The dim candlelight cast soft shadows on his face as his fingers slowly turned another page, too calm for someone who clearly hadn't yet gone to sleep. When Sophia entered, however, something changed. It wasn't immediate. Tom didn't raise his eyes at once, nor did he draw attention to himself as most would. He simply continued reading for a few seconds that were far too long… as if he already knew exactly who had just arrived. Then he slowly closed the book. "Three days." The low voice cut through the library's silence effortlessly. Only then did his eyes meet Sophia's on the other side of the table. There was something strange about the way Tom observed people, too attentive, too precise. It was as if he were constantly dismantling every gesture, every expression, every detail that others missed. And somehow, it seemed worse when it came to Sofhia. "That's how long it took you to come back here at the same time." He rested his arm on the chair, tilting his head slightly. "I started to think you'd decided to change your routine." His tone remained calm, polite even. But there was something unsettling about the fact that he'd noticed it in the first place.